Ever Think?
by TiTivillus
Summary: Zanna are creatures who guide and protect lost children. But what Sully didn't know was that Sam already had a protector. Hurt!Comfort. Hurt!Sam. BigBro!Dean. Episode Tag to 11x09 "Just my Imagination"


**Title:** Ever Think...

 **Summary:** Zanna are creatures who guide and protect lost children. But Sully didn't know that Sam already had a protector. Hurt!Comfort. Hurt!Sam. BigBro!Dean. Episode Tag to 11x09 "Just my Imagination"

 **Warnings:** Rated K+ for bad language.

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Sleep was an elusive thing.

It should have been high in the rank of Sam's priorities- somewhere between ' _taking a hot shower'_ and _'checking Dean over for injuries'_ but with all these thoughts of Lucifer and the cage swirling around in his head, he knew that the blissful oblivion that usually followed a successful hunt wasn't even in the cards this time.

He would only end up tossing and turning in bed in a failed attempt to get some much needed rest and be assaulted by vivid nightmares that would wake both him and his brother up, which yeah- wasn't gonna happen.

So instead, Sam was sat hunched over his laptop in the bunker's library with a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a book on Gnosticism in the other, when his hunter ears picked up the soft pad of footsteps on wooden floor boards.

"Please tell me you at least _tried_ to get some rest before coming out here," Dean sat down in the chair across from him, wearing his dead guy's robe and slippers.

The dark circles around his red-rimmed eyes were proof that he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep either, but Sam was willing to let that slide.

He took a sip of his coffee, not saying anything.

"You need to sleep, Sam," Dean washed a hand over his face, rubbing his stubble in a way that evoked memories of their dad in Sam's mind.

"Yeah, and so do you," he sighed, setting his cup down on the table and turning the laptop around so the screen was facing Dean.

The displayed website was about child psychology, featuring a scientific article on why kids sometimes felt the need to invent imaginary friends.

"Care to tell me what this is?" Sam asked with a nod towards the computer.

Dean's face paled in the dim lighting of the room, his green eyes closed off and distant. "I believe children these days call it the _Internet_. It shouldn't be a foreign concept to a geek boy like you."

"Cut the crap, Dean," Sam snapped, voice heavy with annoyance. "My computer was frozen on a web page called _'Recognizing the signs of child neglect: Why kids invent imaginary friends'_ and you wanna try and tell me you had nothing to do with that?"

Even in the relative dark, Sam could see his brother's jaw muscle working.

He sighed, shutting the laptop with a soft click and leaning back in his chair.

"Dean..." he paused, unsure of how to approach this topic- unsure if it would make things better or worse if they talked about it. "I don't know what's going on in your head, but whatever it is- stop it, alright?"

"No idea what you're talking about."

Sam clenched his teeth, trying to keep calm.

He had always known his brother had self-worth issues, but he wasn't going to allow Dean to take any blame for _this._

"Listen to me man," Sam paused, trying to figure out the best way to move past his brother's defenses without hurting him in the process. "I know you're still weirded out by the whole me having an imaginary friend- thing, but this isn't on you okay? I was nine years old and my only family members were off somewhere fighting monsters. I felt lonely... and I was scared that something could happen to you- scared of becoming an orphan. Of _losing_ you."

Dean looked as if he was about to say something, mouth halfways open in protest- but Sam quickly lifted a palm to cut him off.

"Just hear me out, alright?"

Dean closed his mouth again, looking genuinely uncomfortable with the topic and Sam let out a slow breath, knowing there was no turning back from it now.

"Our childhood may have been far from perfect and sure, I did feel alone or misunderstood at times... but _'neglected'_? There wasn't a single moment in my life where that was the case."

It was true. Their father hadn't always been around and the fact that they didn't have a mother on top of that was hard enough to accept, but despite it all- Sam had never felt unloved as a kid.

Dean had only been a kid himself, but he had tried so hard to make their lifestyle easier on Sam- had done his best to ensure Sam didn't ever have to go hungry, or cold or lonely. And Dean had always- _always-_ put Sam's safety and comfort above his own.

Thinking back on it now, Sam often felt guilty for having been so oblivious to the countless sacrifices his older brother had made along the way. For how much shit he had given Dean for being on John's side sometimes, without acknowledging- or even realizing that Dean had been stuck between a rock and a hard place- trying to play referee in a never-ending game of tug war between his father and brother.

He had gotten angry at his big brother for going on hunts with their dad and leaving him behind, even when Dean had made that decision for Sam's benefit- had tried to protect his brother from getting hurt or getting that last bit of innocence- that last piece of _normal_ taken away from him.

His brother had been too young to deal with that kind of responsibility. But he had been just as lonely... just as _abandoned_ as Sam had felt at the time.

And yet he had still somehow managed to be there for Sam, to make Sam's childhood easier, to hold him through his nightmares, cook him dinner, drive him to school and soccer practice and birthday parties... while Dean himself had never even gotten that tiny slice of the apple pie life.

Now he was sitting here, his eyes filled with self-loathing and guilt for all the times he had 'failed' Sam when he actually hadn't.

"You sure about that?" Dean snorted, a bitter expression forming on his face. "Me and dad... we left you behind so many times that a male version of the fairy godmother with rainbow suspenders felt the need to take care of you in our absence. Now I may not know the first thing about child psychology, but it does sound like we might have messed up somewhere along the road, Sam."

Sam sighed, rubbing his eyes to hold a splitting headache at bay. "Dean, I know you were doing the best you could, okay? Both of you. And sometimes... leaving me behind at some sleazy motel room seemed like a safer choice than dragging me on a Wendigo hunt. You were picking the lesser of two evils and I get that now."

Sam paused for a second, giving Dean time to let the words sink in, before he continued. "Besides, dad needed you to have his back."

"Yeah, but you needed me too," Dean looked up to meet his brother's gaze, a myriad of emotions flickering through his eyes. "And it's my job to watch out for you. Not Sully's or anyone else's... I just wish it would have never come to a point where you felt the need to make a pretend-friend because your own family wasn't there for you."

"Dean, c'mon, man..." Sam let his gaze steer off for a second before bringing it back- eyes suspiciously wet in the orange glow of the library lamp. "When have you ever _not_ been there for me?"

"You want me to make a list? We'll sit here until tomorrow, " Dean snorted and there was so much guilt in his tone... so much resignation that it made Sam's heart ache.

Sometimes it was easy to forget how much shit Dean carried around on a daily basis. How much guilt resided in his heart. And even though Sam had made his peace with a lot of his father's decisions and parental shortcomings, he would never be able to forgive him for putting all these responsibilities on Dean's shoulder- for essentially having taken away his oldest son's innocence and childhood, just so he didn't have to own up to his own parental duties.

It hadn't been fair to either of them. But it had been particularly hard on Dean.

"Sully was there for me when you couldn't be," Sam said, shrugging loosely as if to underline the fact that it was okay for Dean to not have spent every second glued to his side. To have followed their fathers orders so readily and embraced the hunting life with open arms from an early age on. It was basically the only time John had ever paid attention to Dean- the only way to get praise and attention from the man and Dean had needed that.

"He was my friend when I needed one and I will always be grateful for that. But..."

Dean swallowed, toying with a loose thread in his bathrobe."But what?"

"But that's all he was- a friend. And you... Dean, you're my _brother._ "

And maybe that made all the difference in the world. Sure, they had both made mistakes- had both failed each other- had intentionally and unintentionally hurt each other over the years.

They had left each other multiple times- whether it was out of their own volition or not. But when all was said and done, they had still come out of each hurdle and each fight together.

As family.

And Sully must have realized that too.

The reason why the Zanna had chosen to keep an eye on Reese, while he hadn't made that same promise to Sam was not just because he felt guilt for what happened to her twin sister.

It was because Sam already had a caretaker... someone to protect him and _'lend him guidance'_ and Sam wouldn't have it any other way.

They were silent for a minute before Dean broke the quiet again.

"You know that I won't just stand by and let you walk into the cage a second time, right?" he asked in a raw voice, letting all the pain and denial of a different lifetime bleed into his tone.

Sam pursed his lips and nodded, feeling his throat tighten at the change of topic.

This was the real reason why they were sitting here, the thing that occupied both their minds and made their hearts heavy with dread.

"I don't know what else to do, Dean. I feel like I don't have a choice. I mean it's not... it's not like I _want_ to—" he broke himself off with a vague wave of his hand, voice shaking with barely contained emotion.

He had let himself be vulnerable in front of Sully earlier, had let all of his fears show, but he couldn't do the same to Dean. It would only make things harder on him.

But when Dean reached across the table top to still Sam's shaky hand by covering it with his own, Sam bit his lower lip to stay strong, throat burning.

"I don't wanna go back... I don't— Dean, I'm not sure I can go through that again."

"Well, good. Cause you won't," Dean assured with absolute conviction in his voice, the warmth from his palm slowly seeping over into Sam's own fingers. "Over my dead body."

"Yeah, cause that's a comforting thought," Sam grimaced, shaking his head with a humorless snort. "You see a pattern somewhere in there?"

"Sammy, look at me," Dean softly urged and Sam instinctively did what was asked of him. "We will figure something out together. But the cage? Not happening again. Not on my watch, okay? I promise."

Sam's lips twitched weakly, but the smile was more for Dean's benefit than for his own.

He still didn't quite believe that they would find another solution to deal with the darkness, but his brother's confidence was still comforting and his hopefulness was something to take strength in.

Whatever happened, they would deal with it together, just like they always had.

 **The END.**

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 _Just a little coda, because I felt like the brothers' talk didn't really satisfy me at the end of the last episode. Promise that my next post will be an update for Blood Pact. Hope you enjoyed this story! Please tell me what you thought :D_


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